


Kiss Me Like You Mean It

by OrmondSacker



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Injury, M/M, but no spoilers for e14 that i know of, i haven't even watched the trailer so anything that matches up is entirely unintentional, some references to s2e13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 09:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18466159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrmondSacker/pseuds/OrmondSacker
Summary: Paul is injured in the final battle and wakes to find Hugh tending him. Except that can’t be real, because Hugh left. Didn’t he?





	Kiss Me Like You Mean It

**Author's Note:**

> An, “Oh god please let us get something like this in the last episode” fic. I blame the entire culmets discord for this one.

Everything in Paul’s body hurts. Modern medicine can do a lot but still only so much. The sounds of sickbay with its beeping scanners fill his ears, but his eyelids don’t seem to want to respond. 

Still he can’t lie about here, there’s a whole universe that is in need of saving and they’re not done for yet, he refuses to think they are. 

Forgetting about trying to open his eyes he instead tries to sit up. A hand grabs his shoulder, pushing him back down, followed by a gentle, “No,” in an all too familiar voice. A voice Paul knows he could impossibly be hearing. 

Clearly he’s hallucinating. Or maybe he’s dead? 

He should ask Hugh about that; Hugh would know what that felt like. Except Hugh isn’t here is he, so he can’t. Which is why he knows that the voice is a hallucination as it belongs to him. 

“You’re not dead,” the hallucinatory voice says. 

Had he spoken out loud? No, he wouldn’t have had to would he. Hallucinations were all in your head after all. 

He tries to sit up again, but the obstinate hand is back, pushing him down in turn. He doesn’t have the physical strength to resist so he lets it, but can’t hold back a discontented sound. 

“Paul, you’re injured. Stop trying to sit up.” 

“We’re in the fight of our lives, a fight for the future of all living things,” he snaps. “I don’t have time for this. And I don’t have time for something that isn’t real.” 

He finally manages to open his eyes, hoping that will dispel this ludicrous fantasy his mind has conjured up.  

No such luck. It seems his mind have decided to add visual to sound because the spitting image of Hugh is sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand still lingering on Paul’s shoulder, looking very grave and concerned as only Hugh can. 

“What makes you think this isn’t real?” the figment asks. 

“I’m seeing and hearing you, aren’t I?” 

The figment frowns. 

“You, the real you, is on the Enterprise,” Paul clarifies, questioning why he’s bothering explaining himself to an illusion. “I must have hit my head or something.” 

He tries to sit again, but is pushed back down for the third time.  

Hmm, his mind is being a lot more realistic about all of this than he thought possible. 

“I’m real,” the figment says. “I changed my mind.” 

Paul shakes his head vehemently, a pain far greater than any physical pain stabbing him in the chest. 

He can’t believe that. He won’t. If he does and this is false, he’ll never be able to salvage the pieces of his heart. 

“Why?” he still finds himself asking. “Why did you change your mind?” 

“Because this may be the last chance I get, to make things right. Because I don’t want a life, a future, without you. When I saw you stay behind with the others? I knew I had to stay too.” 

Paul just stares at him, trying, fighting, failing, to disbelieve what he hears. 

“No. You said that you-” 

“And you said you’d retire to a starbase. Guess we’re both liars.” 

“You’re not real,” Paul repeats to himself, pitifully. “You can’t be.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because how can you throw your life away like this just after having gotten it back!” 

“And it’s fine for you to throw your life away?” 

Hugh looks angry now. That slight frown between his eyebrows, the set of his lips that signals his ire? Paul knows both all too well. His mind is doing a damn convincing job at rendering Hugh, he’ll grant it that. 

“I don’t have one,” he says. What’s the point of lying to a figment of his own mind. “Not without you. Not one I want.” 

“And you think I do?” 

“You said-” Paul starts but Hugh interrupts him. 

“Ugh. You are the most stubborn man I know. I know what I said, I was trying to make things easy on you. So you wouldn't feel guilty for moving on without me when... when all I wanted was to hold you again, kiss you.” 

Hugh’s hand runs over Paul's shoulder, strong fingers digging lightly into the muscles. There's light tremble of Hugh's lips as he speaks.

“What will it take to convince you Paul? That I’m here? That I’m real?” 

“Kiss me? Kiss me like you mean it.” 

Hugh’s eyes grow soft at those words and his hand shifts from Paul’s shoulder up to cup his cheek, before he leans forward and presses his lips against Paul’s. It’s soft and tender and so very, very delicate. 

“Hugh,” Paul whispers against his lips. 

“Do you believe me now?” Hugh asks when he pulls back. 

“You’re usually more passionate,” Paul says, knowing that he’s just arguing for the sake of it now. He’s never been quite capable of conjuring the exact feeling of Hugh’s lips on his. 

“And you’re usually less injured, so I’m not going to kiss you any more passionate than that right now. That’ll have to wait till after.” 

“If we get an after,” Paul says, remembering that they are still in the middle of a fight. 

“Let me patch you up and you can help make sure we do. And then you and I are going to talk. I mean really talk.” 

Paul nods, lying down again, suddenly feeling very exhausted. 

“Just lie still for a moment and I’ll do what I can,” Hugh says, taking a regenerator from a nearby tray. 

“You always did take good care of me.” 

“And I intend to continue doing that. If you’ll let me.” 

Paul puts a hand on Hugh’s arm and squeezes it. 

“I’ll always let you,” he says before closing his eyes and letting Hugh work in peace so he can get back on his feet. Now more than ever he’s determined that there  _will_ be an after, that they will have time. 


End file.
